


a little party never killed nobody

by exodus



Series: Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Modern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exodus/pseuds/exodus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy holds parties to drown his sorrows, despite never drinking anything himself, whilst Clarke is the tenant below him who can't even think let alone study over the blaring, terrible, music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little party never killed nobody

**Author's Note:**

> rcyes asked:
> 
> ok I think the annoying neighbor ones are cute idk why??? so maybe one where person a lives right above person b and B is always having parties and A gets fed up and goes up to yell at B but then ends up joining the party (I picture bellamy as B and clarke as A if it’s bellarke)

The noise was so loud from above her that as she stared at the glass of water perched on the coffee table, she could see ripples forming and the water splashing at the sides. It had never been this loud before, which distracted her from her studying completely. Clarke had always wondered if the tenant above her had paid off the other people living in the building, because nobody had complained since it started at the beginning of the week. Posting notices on the corkboard in the foyer of the main floor just simply was not cutting it. No one seemed to be taking notice.   
                Closing her eyes and breathing in, Clarke thought about happier things as an attempt to drown out the remixed songs above her; which, in fact, were _terrible_ in her opinion. Even her grandma could make better mash-ups than her neighbor was playing tonight.   
                Something she never understood, though, is why this particular occupant of apartment 7a could not understand that not only were these rooms not meant for holding secret clubs with, probably, open bars, but it was ten o’clock at night and some people had school. Well, she had school. She didn’t know about anyone else.  
                The last straw for her came along when she was highlighting an important portion of her textbook, that would not doubt be on her final exam next week, and the loudest boom came from above her that had her jumping sky high out of her seat and running the pink Sharpie down the entire page. Although she promised her best friend John that she wasn’t going to do anything, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  
                The elevator would take much longer than she would like, so she stomped up the steep cement stairs – that really did need to be cleaned of the sticky gum on the railing – and she threw the heavy metal door open as furious as a tiny, five foot four, blond girl can. It slammed against the wall and she could see the lights blaring from underneath the door of 7a changing drastically, flashing white and random intervals. The door wasn’t locked, right? Testing the handle and seeing it would, Clarke almost began to regret even going up. Being an only child in the Griffin household, she would never just barge into someone’s apartment like this, let alone a room on its own.  Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to reconsider, as the door was pulled open by a welcoming man, sort of, with a pair of goggles strapped to his head and an Erlenmeyer flask in the other, which contained an odd, smoking green liquid. He obviously could see the confusion on Clarkes face, and understood even clearer when he noticed her Winnie the Pooh pajamas. She blushed a slight pink, but her confident stance never faltered.  
                “Listen –“ she started, hoping he was the one who rented the place, yet he cut her off abruptly.  
                “You’re looking for Bellamy, and he is over there,” he pointed, smiling widely and handing her the flask without hesitation. She looked down at it in her hand and before she could hand it back to him, he was gone in the crowd. The assembly of people was so thick she could practically only see the ceiling, but there ‘Bellamy’ was, all high and mighty in the center of the room with two girls on either side of him and at least a two feet distance all around between him and the mob that was teenagers. He looked about as old as she did, with slicked back, oily hair and the smuggest smile she had seen on a guy.   
                Stomping was not the word to describe how Clarke Griffin made her way to him. With fury in her face, the smug smile slid off his own.    
                “Clarke. Uh… 6a, right?” He chuckled, standing up abruptly, leaving the two girls who were beside him to fall over and grunt.  
                “How do you know my name, dirtbag?” She spat, handing him the liquid, as he sheepishly turned his head.  
                “Hey, everyone out! Now!” Bellamy yelled loudly, and abruptly, clapping his hands together loudly. Clarke looked around, trying to find a reason for his sudden outburst. The music stopped, and only then did she notice her ears were ringing. With the lights on, the place wasn’t even a mess. She decided it was because of his authority, as no one seemed to want to cross him. Just as she was about to turn her back and leave, something caught her eye.  
                “Oh Hell no,” she muttered, shuffling slowly into the kitchen. And there he was, lovely little John Murphy lying face down on the tiled kitchen floor, with questionable drawings on his face. Trying to shake him awake, Clarke looked to Bellamy for help as he was closing his front door, apparently aware she was still there.   
                “Bellamy, he won’t wake up,” Clarke desperately ushered, which somehow caught Bellamy’s attention immediately.  
                “It was the moonshine; he must have had too much. He can stay the night on my couch again if he pleases.”  
                “It’s fine, he’s my roommate,” she mumbled. Pulling him to one of the couches, Bellamy lay John down on his side and stuffed a pillow under his head. Clarke couldn’t help but smile at the exchange as she wet a cloth to try and remove the marks on her friends face, not for the first time. She quietly padded in her slippers to kneel in front of the couch and slowly rub at his face while Bellamy swept what needed to be swept off the floor.   
                “Your boyfriend?” The tall Blake coughed, ruffling his hair a bit and leaving it messy.   
                “Pardon?”  
                “Murphy, is he your boyfriend?” His question had Clarke giggling, which in turn made him smile. Seeing his grin brought her back to before.  
                “How did you know my name?” She pondered, and he chuckled again while putting glass cups in the dishwasher and replacing the alcohol in their respective cupboards.  
                “You’ve been so silent, 6a, that I was questioning everyone around if anybody lived in there. Murphy over here spat out your name, so I assumed he knew you, but he said nothing about if this whole noise bothered you. I’m sorry, by the way. Most of the building isn’t even here if you’ve noticed.” Clarke’s eyebrows furrowed as she recalled the past week, and not hearing the familiar dog of 5f barking in the mornings. He went on to explain further, “There was a pipe leakage; I guess we just weren’t affected.” She nodded her head, but didn’t say another word.  
                The two shared a quiet exchange, while he peacefully cleaned and she got the last of the unmentionables off of John’s face. Or Murphy, she supposed, if people called him by his last name. The exchange lasted longer than they had thought. He came and sat beside her as they chatted, laughing quietly and sharing stories. It wasn’t until John had woken up that they noticed it was one in the morning, and they had been talking for three hours. Clarke’s face flashed in panic as she remembered she hadn’t finished studying. John apologized in a glance to her as he made his way out the front door, and Bellamy questioned her.  
                “What are you studying exactly?” He didn’t even realize he hadn’t asked her.  
                “History of Europe, World History Since 1900, Latin American History, and Science, Medicine, and Technology in the Ancient and Medieval Worlds. Full course load, and it’s absolute Hell,” she sighed, falling against the door frame.  
                Bellamy laughed, almost maniacally, “Jesus Griffin, why didn’t you say so? Your test, it isn’t until a couple days right? Come by tomorrow, I’m a senior in practically all those subjects.” Her returning smile was bright enough to light the night. All of her panic disappeared as she lunged herself at him.  
                “You’re my new best friend now Bellamy, and since you’re my new best friend you should give me your notes,” she shrugged, pulling away. He laughed again, realizing in that moment how happy she had made him that night. Small gestures went a long way for him, and it made him feel fulfilled enough to hold off on the parties until he was feeling in the dumps again, longing to see his sister. With the thought that he would be seeing Clarke more, though, he didn’t see a party in his future for a long time. She thanked him again and patted down the hall to get in the elevator and descend back to 6a. All Bellamy could do was imagine his forthcoming week with anticipation, and eagerness of having the blond haired, strawberry smelling girl in his place again, without the dedication of a one night stand.  
                Before he closed the door to his place, he listened carefully; just to be sure she had gotten home safely. It was one floor and he was already worried about her getting home? This was going to be a long night for the both of them.


End file.
